Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Saturday, I attended Heartland Writer's Group Christmas Party. We had a fun time in the sun.

Instead of the normal Christmas attire we celebrated a beach read and got out our grass skirts and sunscreen. We exchanged books that are special to us. We all had a great time and rediscovered the joy of writing.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Pick out something in your house that you've never use and wrap it up to exchange. A fun way to see what others have in their closet and it's a great way to keep cost down while still having a good time.

The holidays are not about the gifts that you receive but the family and friends that you love.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

1. Do Christmas cards early.2. Save money by writing up a letter instead of the traditional card. This way everyone learns more about what's going on in your world and you save money too.3. Do a few cards a night 5 or 10 until their all done.4. If you put the addresses into the computer you can print them out on labels and avoid having to write them all out.5. Or consider sending out a Christmas email and not sending cards at all.

And if you find you don't have time to send cards. Change to sending out Easter cards instead. You still keep in touch with love ones and you'll have more time to enjoy Christmas.

Place the crackers in a large sealable freezer container. In a bowl, mix the oil, salad dressing mix, dill, garlic powder, and celery salt. Pour this mixture over the crackers. Cover the container and invert to coat all the crackers with the seasoning.

Refrigerate for at least 24 hours, turning the container every so often to keep the crackers coated. Let the mixture come to room temperature before serving. Store in the covered container in the refrigerator.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Mike and I managed to get in nine holes this past week. We enjoyed a beautiful day, but with all the leaves on the ground we lost a number of balls. Can't say we played that well either but we had fun.

Hope you can get one more round in before it gets cold in your neck of the woods.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Youthful Temptations is about a couple finding love and overcoming stereotypes. We see that we all have baggage, it’s a part of us, and those that love us don’t mind the load we carry. Awesome story, I really enjoyed Youthful Temptations.

Friday, September 18, 2009

This may sound like a strange topic for a person over forty, but if you think about it, we all want to fit in one way or another.

Some of us go to a job outside our homes where we have to get along with a grumpy receptionist or deal with a knit-picking boss. We shares our woes of our imperfect job with a friend, someone who makes us feel that we’re not alone on those days when we feel out of sync with our co-workers.

In that respect, I don’t have to worry. You see I write. There’s no one around when I write. It’s a solitary endeavor, which would make one think I’m home free, in paradise, away from the annoying people of the outside world.

Wrong! I get lonely. I have this insatiable desire to talk, and talk, and talk some more. It’s a terrible habit I can’t seem to break.

And what do I want to talk about?

Writing, it’s kind of a passion for me.

Yeah? Well, what about your family? They’re interested, right?

Not when you are a romance writer and a mother of two teenage boys. World of War Craft and video games, karate and fencing moves; these are the topics of choice in my house.

So where are my comrades, the people to whom I can connect?

Lost, I thought, in a world of their own design, stuck behind their desk, in their office, on a street far, far away in another galaxy.

So I prepared myself for the journey and scouted out my local library. A critique group was forming of local writers. I joined right in, ready to share my heart. My enthusiasm dimmed quickly when I discovered that the other writers didn’t exactly share my passion for romantic novels.

Still I went; searching for other places my compatriots might be hiding. A local community class was an alternative I looked into. And it worked for a short time but again, with a wide range of interests and different genres, I didn’t feel at home. But I was lucky enough to be given a name of a group that seemed to be what I wanted.

Romance Writers of America had a local chapter not far from my house, and they met once a month. They didn’t require a secret handshake to join, but I must say when I walked into that first meeting, I was leery.

Would this be the right place for me? Would I be accepted?

The lady that took my money at the door, smiled at me, was even friendly. But then again, that was her job, she wanted my money. She suggested I attend the ask-an-author session being held across the hall.

The published author would answer any question I had, she said.

Right, I thought, like they’re going to talk to me, an unpublished nobody.

To my surprise, they did.

Then they walked into the RWA meeting with me, sat down in the same room with me, and treated me like an equal. To my happy surprise, no one called me out for being a wanna-be, a bad pretender, a no name author.

Well, as you can guess, I found my home. The ladies and men in the group welcomed me each time I attended a meeting. They didn’t scoff at my stupid questions, but instead told me things I needed to know. They supported my passion with cheers of encouragement.

I made friends. I became involved. With their help and support, I changed.

And now that I have my first contract, I know I will find the help I need to take me to the next level.

Thank you everyone at Heartland Writers Group for the beautiful ripples you’ve made in my life.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Some might look at this cake and laugh. It's not perfect. No expert cook baked it. But the love inside is much greater, which to me makes it the best cake ever.

My husband and I watch a lot of food network. The cake decorating show are some of our favorite. We've talked many times about getting the recipe for fondant. It has to be hard, if the chef use it right?

Well, I can't say, but my husband can. He found the recipe on the internet and decide to give it a try for my birthday.

Not a simple task, he spend hours mixing the recipe together and rolling out the dough. What you see is the time it takes to create a beautful example of what a man will do for the woman he loves.

A master piece in my eyes, I am very blessed to be married to such an awesome guy. Even if he drives me crazy at times.

And the flowers are a gift from my son. Hope when your birthday comes around, it's as good for you.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

This is both an easy and a difficult topic to blog about. I write, as it is a tool for me to express myself. I see a story in events that exist and arise from situations around me. Out of that comes a need to put on paper that idea that transforms itself into a story so I can share with others. I internalize a lot. When I am asked to verbally recount a story, or a situation, I actually find it quite difficult. I immediately become tongue-tied and find that gift that many people have to verbally communicate their ideas, clear and concise to a group of people, does not exist within me.

Except if you give me time, pen and paper to put those ideas down in writing, something else happens. The ability to transpose those ideas become clear and distinct as my own individual style appears.I am a prolific writer. I include without hesitation controversial and moral dilemmas within my novels. It is actually something that drives me. I believe we all have lessons to learn in life. Once we experience them, why not share them with others?

So all these dilemmas, crisis, controversies, that go on around me, whether it’s with friends, family, in the community and local news. The story appears and when I sit down to write the premise, it is transformed into a story, along with the characters that come to life to retell it, to share with my readers the knowledge I have gained.

Let's learn a little about Lorhainne's book.

Blurb: The Captain’s Lady

Captain Eric Hamilton is a powerful force in the U.S. Navy, having earned himself a reputation of being a hard-nosed chauvinist. He’s commander of the USS Larsen, a destroyer, currently deployed in the Persian Gulf during Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Abby Carlton has just escaped from the man who held her captive for a year. Abducted while travelling in Paris, she was given to an Arab man as a gift, until one night she makes her desperate escape.

While on patrol one morning Captain Eric Hamilton discovers a dinghy floating aimlessly. Abby is found, battered and in an advanced state of pregnancy, lying in the bottom of the dinghy. From the moment she lay on the deck of his ship her innocence finds a way to penetrate his hardened heart. But time is running out. Eric is falsely accused of sexual assault and the CIA wants Abby and the baby for bait to flush out her captor.

Excerpt: The Captain’s Lady

“We have no reports of a ship in distress in the area, Captain.”

“What about fishing boats?”

“No, sir, no reports.”

Looking once more at his first officer, Eric issued curt orders, the harshness grating in his voice. “Send a rescue team to check it out.”

Handing the binoculars off to one of the crew members, he strode with determination off the bridge, heading directly to the ship’s launch. His well-trained crew scurried about. Joe appeared at his side and they watched from the rail as the small rigid hull sped off in the direction of the dinghy. His pulse rose and the dampness on his back soaked through his short-sleeved shirt.

“So what do you think?” Joe leaned on the rail, uncertainty clear in the crinkle of his brows.

“Don’t know, dammit.” Eric focused on the scene unfolding in the distance. Again he commandeered the binoculars from Joe and scrutinized the three-man team approaching, then securing the boat to the dinghy.

His senses were keen; over the years, he’d learned to trust them. The uneasiness that crept its way into his gut, the hairs now standing up on the back of his neck and the racing of his heart; this unshakable feeling was telling him that things were about to change—drastically. Puzzled, he felt the mounting frustration build inside, along with something else he could not quite put his finger on. Shaking his head, he realized it was not a feeling of dread.

The crackle of the radio interrupted his speculation. A voice from the rescue team came over the line. “There’s someone in here, a woman, and she’s in bad shape.”

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Mike and I hit the last of the wine trail. We visited the last two wineries on the list and are now settling down for fall.

First, we drove out to Greeley, Ne and visited the grave site of Mike's grandmother, then we down to Miletta Vista Winery.

Sitting on a hill, the winery has a great view of the countryside. Check out some of the pictures of the view.

Next, we took hwy. 92 to Prairie Creek Winery. The best part about the trip was talking to the owner. Not only does he grow grapes, but has fields of corn too. A young man, he enjoys creating wine and farming.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

I am not a funny person but when I see something that is, I like to pass it on. This is Marianne Donley’s response to people who've had problems with their computer. I like to bring it out occassionally and reread it. It brightens my day.

"Computers, Yahoo! and AOL are run by evil little green male trolls --allabout 15 years old. They live inside your machines. Some times the trolls dowhat you ask them to do. Sometimes they fold their little troll arms andshake their little troll heads and say, "Nope. Not doing that. You can't makeme. Nanner. Nanner. Nanner."

Now, if you have a larger male person come in to your office and he does theVERY SAME THING to the computer that you have been doing for the last 10hours, the little evil green trolls get afraid. Frighten trolls do what theyare told. Then your larger male person gets a smug look on his face and you go off to plan another mystery in which large male people die in very painful ways. "

Hope it helps you see the funny side of computer problems and write your next thriller.

Also this past weekend, we took a trip down to Lincoln to check out the Windcrest Winery and the new winery of WunderRosa.

I enjoyed talking to the owners at both places.

Windcrest has a fruity cherry wine, made from cherries grown on their property and a large offering of different wines. They are going to be picking their wines here soon if you want to joy in on the fun just contact them.

WunderRosa Winery has only four different wines at the moment, but unfortunately, they received some wind damage to a part of their vineyard which is going to limit their production for this year.

With the stairs a few steps ahead, she tasted victory and allowed herself a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness."

A masculine voice in front of her chuckled. "It’s not over yet, princess."

Marohka paused to inspect the stranger. The laughter reflected in his warm brown eyes—surprised, the intelligent focus—intrigued, and the dark spark of interest—captivated.A foreign response slithered through her chest. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Her heartbeat rang in her ears. Her hands turned clammy. Awareness of the man claimed her senses.

His face, framed by dark brown hair, showed rough lines of strength and fortitude. A crooked nose, a square jaw, and a chiseled chin marked his unique personality. Added together, the sum indicated the man rarely backed down from a fight. He’d stand up for his beliefs and defeat his opponents. His lopsided grin with a dimple at the corner of his mouth teased her.

A silly feature on such a stern face. The little mark claimed her heart and spoke of a rare sense of humor, a trait absent in most men.

A tingle ran down her spine. Her toes curled. Either as an appealing partner or a worthy adversary, the man presented a dangerous combination. Right then, without question, Marohka decided never to cross paths with him again.

"It is for me," she responded to his comment. She lifted her chin a little higher and repaired the chip in her armor with a sassy comeback. "But you’re welcome to any of the girls behind me. I’m sure they’ll enjoy your charm."

Marohka lifted her skirt and swept up the stairs. The sound of his laughter spoiled her intended snub.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Can you imagine how those U.S. hockey players felt when they stepped onto the ice in Lake Placid for the first time, already slated as the underdog? Dave Anderson, a columnist for the New York Times wrote the day before the match, "Unless the ice melts, or unless the United States team or another team performs a miracle…..the Russians are expected to easily win the Olympic gold medal for the sixth time in the last seven tournaments."

But they endured. They kept going at it, game after game, until they achieved victory.

At a particular time when I was receiving rejection after rejection, my mother told me a story from when I was about 4 years old. As she loaded a cart full of food on the conveyor belt at the food store, I asked her what color lipstick the woman in front of us was wearing. She replied red. I pressed her further, asking her if the color was more like an apple or a strawberry. She told me

I could describe it any way I wanted.

From that story, I realized it takes perseverance to believe in your dreams. During your day, whether it be at the office or at home with your family, don’t forget to spend time with your craft. Even if you jot a few sentences down before bed, or write an idea for a scene while eating your lunch in the office. Think about your plot, think about your characters. Take that second to decide if the lipstick your heroine is wearing is fuscia or plumberry.

If you don’t have a spot designated to write, maneuver your living room furniture around to find a small alcove you could convert into a mini-office. Sit at the kitchen table where the breeze grabs you just the right way. Dig out the lawn chair and take it to the park with a pad of paper.

Be creative. Wherever you feel the vibe to write is where you should be.

Make your dream happen. Keeping writing and keep reaching for your next goal, whether it be a first contract, a new query, or finding an agent.

Blurb

A Daughter’s Promise, by debut novelist Christine Clemetson, is a sweeping love story of sacrifice and unexpected hope. In war torn Italy, 1944, Serene Moneto made a promise to her dying mother—a promise so haunting that it directs the course of her life. When she chooses to save an American soldier from death, she risks everything—her name, her life, and capture by the Germans. Finding forbidden love with this soldier tears her world apart. Against the backdrop of a war raging right outside her door, can she choose happiness? Despite the promise she made those years ago?

They both knew Serene’s turn had come. She took in a deep breath and touched his arms in a stiff embrace. She hugged him the way she had rehearsed in her head over and over, the way a mother would hug her son going off to war.

"I don’t care who sees," he said gruffly, pulling her closer. He pushed her chin up with hisfingertips, and bent his head to kiss her.

She took his lips, his body, all of him, into her heart for the last time. Feeling the rapid beating in his chest, she fought the urge to mold her most intimate part against his.

When their lips parted, his warm breath on her neck made her body shiver. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she buried her face into his jacket. "I’m not ashamed aboutwhat I said to you last night or what happened between us." Her voice cracked. "It’s a sin, I know, but it was the most beautiful—"

"Ashamed? I don’t think I’ll ever have that kind of love again."

Trembling, she stood back a little, clinging to her emotions with the delicacy of a spider web.

"But you were right. We made the most logical decision."

"Jesus, Serry. I want to tell you so bad that I—"

"You’re all set, then?" Sam said, coming back into the house.

Serene let go of Miles, letting her one finger intertwine with one of his pinky fingers. She couldn’t let him go.

Slowly, he released her and went to the door, putting one foot on the outside pavement before hesitating and turning back. His eyes were red, and she clutched the stair banister to keep from running to him. How much she loved him would be a secretshe’d take to the grave.

Carrying a bottle of whiskey, Marcus passed him at the door and gave him a friendly slap on the back. "I came to give you a goodbye, Coulson."

Serene stood up straight and froze.

Miles jerked himself away. "Change of heart about me?"

His answer was Marcus’ deep kiss on Serene’s cheek and an arm around her waist. "I realized, Coulson, that I’m proud of her for taking the responsibility for you. I thought it was about time that I offered my apologies for the undiplomatic way I acted. We’re all in this for a cause, no? Why don’t we share a bottle to celebrate?"

"No, your change of heart doesn’t rub me the right way." Miles offered an apologetic glance to Serene and then shifted his gaze back to Marcus. "You hurt her, and I’ll hurt you. You understand me?"

"Have a safe trip," Marcus drawled.

Serene watched the driver help him in and her knees weakened. As the truck’s engine started, she braced herself against the wall.

"Don’t worry. Serene. Just think of this as a wedding present from me. No more worries about your American. He is well now and gone for good. Your only thanks is to marry me."She couldn’t hear him. Her throat ached and she made no effort to wipe the tears spilling freely from her eyes. She started for the door, but he grabbed her by the shoulders.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

This week my husband and I visited three wineries and viewed acres of rich green farmland ripe with corn.

Located in a lower part of Nebraska, the wineries each had special features which made them worth visiting.

Whiskey Run Creek is located near hwy 29 in Brownville, which makes it easy to visit. They offer a free wine tasting if you buy a bottle of their wine, a treat worth partaking in.

Schilling Bridge Winery is in Pawnee City and is also a microbrewery. So you can try out beer and wine, whichever one you like best. They also have some great tasting root beer. The last one we visited is near Lincoln, and has a number of very nice dry wines.

Deer Springs Winery is one of the newer wineries and is a nice place to relax on a lazy summer day. Check them out and have a great week.

Just thought I'd let you know Youthful Temptations will be coming out Friday, 31st.

Here's the blurb for the book.

A widow with two grown children, Linda Clayton is ready to let loose and have some fun. Jilted at a party, she meets a younger man, Vaughn Reagan. He tempts with an active imagination and allures her into his life by tempting her with seductive games.

Vaughn thrilled to find a woman who doesn’t want children. He offers Linda a job so he can spend his days with her. Now, if he could only convince her to forget their age difference and enjoy the nights in his arm.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Thank you so much for hosting me today. To change things up, I'd like to post my blurb and a brand new excerpt from my new release Meant To Be. And if anyone would like to leave a comment, I'll draw a winner for a free download of Meant To Be. :-)

She's running from her past, he's unsure about his future. Maybe together they can figure out what was Meant To Be.Officer Garrett Jamison is at the lowest point in his life. He's lost faith in his ability as a police officer after unwittingly setting his sister up with a dirty cop. Garrett ended up getting shot, and his sister's son kidnapped right out of his own bed. He takes a leave from the force, in need of some time to make a decision about his future. Too bad he can't get a decent night's sleep thanks to his sexy new neighbor and her howling cat. Jessica McGovern moves halfway across the country to start a new life in Green Bay, Wisconsin after her ex-husband is convicted of involuntary manslaughter in the death of their young son. Her new neighbor is as infuriating as he is handsome, but when her ex is released from prison early and shows up in town, Jessica discovers she's never needed anyone more.

Excerpt:

"Well?" He stood up and motioned her forward. "Aren't you going to send me off with a good night kiss?"

She let out a delicate snort. "You act as if we're dating or something. Hell, we just got past our mutual dislike of each other."

"Is 'mutual dislike' what you were feeling when you wrapped your arms and legs around me in the kitchen?" he asked, annoyed by her casual attitude. "Because it's definitely not what I was feeling."

"I see your ego isn't as delicate as you thought it was."

Garrett reached down, grasped both her hands, and hauled her to her feet. He gazed down at her, holding her tight against him with one hand, while the other worked the ponytail holder from her hair. Gently, he fingercombed the silky blonde tendrils away from her face while gazing down at her lips, fighting the urge to kiss her breathless. "The hell with it," he whispered, losing the battle. He took her mouth with fierce possession.

Jessica melted into him without hesitation. She wrapped her arms around his neck and slanted her mouth across his, meeting the thrust of his tongue with a sexy little moan.

Garrett had to use every bit of his self-control to keep from stripping her naked and taking her right there on the floor. He wanted to taste every inch of her, make her burn for him, hunger for him. She could deny it till the cows came home, but the way she responded to him was all the proof he needed.

Jessica wanted him just as much.

Bio for Donna

Romance author Donna Marie Rogers lives in a renovated old schoolhouse in beautiful Northeast Wisconsin with her husband and children. She's an avid gardener and home-canner, as well as an admitted reality TV junkie. Her passion to read is only exceeded by her passion to write, so when she's not doing the wife and mother thing, you can usually find her sitting at her computer creating exciting new characters, fresh new worlds, and always happily-ever-afters.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Mike and I took a short trip out to DeSoto Wildlife Refuge in Nebraska.

A fascinating place, the birthplace of a lake and the dead fork of the Missouri River, DeSoto is where the "Bertrand" sank, a merchant steamboat that held merchandise bound for the Montana Territory.The Visitor Center holds a large assortment of the items retrieved from the boat.

Would love to go back when the birds are flying through.

At this time of year, the refuge is quiet and offers a peaceful place to rest and relax.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

The noise has already started. Fireworks are going off every night near my house. People enjoying the season and having fun.

Here is a quick dessert to enjoy on our country's birthday.

Ingredients:

BlueberriesStrawberriesA store bought angel food cakeWhip topping

Pick out a pretty glass bowl to make this in so it will display all the colors.

First cut the angel food cake in half. Then tear one half of the cake into small bite size pieces and lay them in the bottom of the bowl. Then sprinkle some blueberries on top, then strawberries, then the whip topping. Repeat the with the second half of the cake, and add the other layers.

Monday, June 29, 2009

It is so easy to go by all the wonderful places around your house without stopping for a moment to appreciate the true beauty of nature.

My husband loves to take picture and we have visited a number of national parks such as Death Valley, the Grand Canyon, Brice Canyon and others.

I believe it helps me to create the places in my books. I've learned to pick out the special items in a place that make them unique. Death Valley has sand dunes and to my surprise plants like African violets.

Today as you tour the different blogs I invite you to learn more about each author and find out what makes each one unique. As you can see by my blog, I love to travel.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

I must say Clemson has a lot of history on it's campus. A beautiful place to visit even if you don't plan on attending school there. The home of John C. Calhoun sits on the campus and is registered as a National Historic Landmark.

Calhoun's son-in-law Thomas Green Clemson later willed the land to the state of South Carolina for a place for higher education.

Monday, June 1, 2009

“Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of your arm... As you grow older you will discover that you have two hands. One for helping yourself, the other for helping others.”

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

One thing most writers like to have is a critique partner to share their work.

It always helps to have another set of eyes review your work and give you suggestions on what the story might be lacking.

Luckily, I'm a member of RWA and have met a number of writers. If you are a new writer or want to learn more about the business and craft of writing, I strongly suggest you look into Romance Writers of America. They were formed to help romance writers but anyone can join.